


Tragedy of Youth

by Brynnsybrynn



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:46:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28433373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brynnsybrynn/pseuds/Brynnsybrynn
Summary: It does not escape anyone's notice that the Herald of Andraste is young, not even a man. It also does not escape anyone's notice that it is tragic, to thrust this role upon a child.
Kudos: 5





	1. Leliana

**Author's Note:**

> I had accidentally made an Inquisitor really baby-faced. And I couldn't stop thinking about it. How does everyone react to that? How tragic is it, that a child is now a major hero and has so much shoved on him?
> 
> Ultimately, I haven't written anything in a very long time, so please be kind, and I'd love any feedback!

He was young.

That was the third thing that Leliana noticed about him. The glowing, bubbling mass on his hand being the obvious first. The sickly green crackling demanded attention, and it certainly got it. The second thing that Leliana noticed was that he was an elf. He had long, elegant, pointed ears, and a small, slender frame. Elvhen. 

On closer inspection, however, she noticed how young he was. He still had not lost his baby fat, and even unconscious, he had an innocence about him, not to mention not a single line or wrinkle on him, save for a scar running vertically across his right eye, and calluses on his palms, an archer’s grip, she noted.

It was a tragedy, she thought, that the Maker chose this child to be the sole survivor. 

And even bigger tragedy that Cassandra was going to interrogate him.


	2. Cassandra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cassandra has had a very bad day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leliana's chapter is the shortest, but I'm looking forward to how the rest are shaping up!

Chapter 2

Cassandra was having a horrible day. The Divine, Most Holy, her Friend, had died. Hundreds of others, community leaders, Chantry Clerics, innocent observers, all gathered for the sake of peace. The war between the mages and templars had affected more than just them, it had destroyed half of a country already, with more and more uprisings each day. Uprisings that destroy lives, families, homes, it needed to end.

She wasn’t at the Conclave. She found herself still on the road back from Kirkwall, unconscious Varric in the wagon behind her. She wasn’t at the Conclave, and Most Holy is gone, one because she wasn’t there to save her. The entire temple was gone, and the mountaintop it was on leveled with it. She tried not to think about the hundreds of innocent people gone, lives snuffed out as if they were nothing. Instead, she focused on what Leliana was saying, that they found a survivor. 

A survivor with a strange mark on his hand, that is affected by the breach in the sky.

Leliana wasn’t convinced he was the culprit, which she found odd. Surely the mark on his hand was damning enough? She supposed it didn’t matter, since he was coming to, and she was going to interrogate him, regardless.

She noticed something, beyond the pointed ears of his race, or even the sickly green glowing from his hand.

He was so young, no older than 18 years. 

Maker, help her, what was this child doing at the Conclave? All she could do during their trek to the forward camp, was recite a prayer to the Maker for protection, and a prayer to Andraste for guidance, and to please let this child live.

On watching him grit his teeth and talk to Chancellor Roderick, she pushed back a laugh. It was like watching a child talking back to his parents, except Chancellor Roderick certainly was not parental, or even receptive to him.

During the battle with the pride demon, she found her mind wandering, specifically the way Chancellor Roderick spoke to him. It bothered Cassandra, and she wasn’t quite sure why. She thought about the memory of the Breach; the voice only referred to him as “The Elf”, and it clicked.

No one knew his name.


	3. Varric

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Varric gives a child brandy, moral support, and a nickname.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think about this, I'm getting back into the swing of writing

Chapter 3

Sitting in his tent at Haven, Varric looked over a letter he was penning to his editor. Sure, he was late with his manuscript, but certainly there were more pressing matters, surely he could get a break. Sealing it, he stepped out of his tent to send it off, and stopped short at the sight before him. 

A sad hump, bundled in a coat far too big, with a hood pulled all the way over his face. He was crouching by the fire, one arm outstretched towards the fire, and the other pulled tight around his knees. He could hear uneven, shaky breathing.

Maker’s balls, his editor is going to kill him, but how can he ignore this scene in front of him? Pocketing the letter, he reached into his coat and pulled out a flask. Taking a swig, he starts

“So now that Cassandra is out of earshot, how are you holding up?” He offered the flask to the… kid, wow he was so young, who hesitantly takes it. He takes a swig, makes a face, and swallows, shuddering. Taking it back, Varric stifles a laugh. He waits for the kid to compose himself. He shrugs, staring back into the fire, and Varric continued. “I mean, you go from being the most wanted criminal in Thedas, to leading the armies of the faithful. Most people would have spread that out over more than one day.” 

The kid sighed. “Honestly, I can barely keep up.” Varric nodded. “I don’t even want to think about how many lives were lost on that mountaintop.” He side-eyed Varric, who raised an eyebrow. “What was in that flask? Can I have some more?”

Varric laughed. “How old are you kid?” and the boy just laughed. Varric shrugged, and passed him the flask. “Antivan Brandy, you can finish it, by the way.” He had a passive thought that maybe he should be concerned about the way the kid downed the contents of the flask, but was more concerned by the voice of Cassandra that was getting closer, asking people if they’ve seen the Herald. Pushing the boy into the tent, he gestured toward a chair, which he sat in.

“Thank you.” The boy said. Maker, he’d need to give him a nickname, at the very least learn his actual name.

“Not in the mood to be interrogated by the Seeker?”

He shrugged. “She’s….. very intense. I’m a little bit overwhelmed at the moment.”

“I cannot blame you there, Shrugs.” 

He startled. “Shrugs?”

Varric nodded. “Sure, since I don’t actually know your name, I have to call you something.” Varric laughed. “I also give all my friends nicknames”

The boy gave a sheepish smile. “No one has asked for my name, although I’m sure Leliana knows. My name is Reza, from clan Lavellan.”

“Reza, huh? Cool I’m still going to call you Shrugs. Be thankful you’re not Broody.”

The boy’s name was Reza.


End file.
